


Starting Again

by sammyphoenix



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, domestic life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1621136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyphoenix/pseuds/sammyphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over. Optimus Prime and Megatron come to agreements to end the war after dealing with the near destruction of their home planet.  Now, with tempers still running hot between Autobot and Decepticon, a way for peace needs to be made.  With the help of a large comity of mechs, bond-mates have been selected for a group of volunteers.  These pairs must learn to forget the war and their fractions in the hopes of making a better Cybertron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An idea that has been in my head for a very long time now. I'm kind of pulling from multiple universes, just because it is fun to have the different characters interacting. I'm going to try to stick to G1/MTMTE mostly, but some Prime will pop in every now again because of characters like Knockout.
> 
> I have no beta so I apologize for any bad grammar or sentences/thoughts that don't make any sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Units:  
> Nanoklik = 1/8 of a second  
> Klik = 1 minute  
> Breem = 8.5 min  
> Joor = 1 hour  
> Cycle = 1 Day  
> Kilocycle = 1 week  
> Decacycle = 1 month  
> Stellar Cycle = 1 year

Thundercracker focused on the box at his feet. He had been a high-ranking officer throughout the war, and everything of value to him fit into a small pitiful box. With a war spanning millions of years, how was one suppose to acquire many items of personal or sentimental value. Looking up he scanned the room. Around him were a large number of both Autobots and Decepticons, each separated into groups of their own fractions. Half of those assembled appeared to have their own box of things, some had somehow managed more than one box. From what he knew of the situation these bots were carriers, like himself, being moved into shared quarters with a potential bond-mate. They had probably had been 'volunteered' as well. The goal was to rebuild trust and community between the once warring fractions, for both the sake of the NAILs and for the sake of Cybertron herself.

Bots from both sides were asked to enlist for coupling with a member of the opposing faction. There had been a physical and psychological examination of each mech to determine the best compatibility matches. Match-making. He felt his face pull a frown. The whole thing was ridiculous. He remembered the night, just a few cycles ago, when Megatron had come to the seekers quarters requesting one of the trine to make himself available for this charade. Immediately, all optics had fallen upon him. Everyone assumed it was he who had a relationship with Skywarp, but it was actually Starscream, their obnoxious leader who had claimed the dark jet as his mate. But since Starscream enjoyed the attention of "being available", and the attention didn't bother Skywarp, no one had ever felt the need to correct the rumor. Thundercracker simply didn't care what those outside his trine thought they did together. The thing that had always bothered him was how easily his trine, especially Skywarp, often bumped him out of or, in this case, into activities that would strengthen his bond with another mech.

A heavy silence feel over the room, pulling Thundercracker out of his thoughts of his trine. Optimus Prime and Megatron entered, neither one of them looked too happy to be there anymore than the rest of the bots. They marched to the other end of the room and Prime stepped up onto a small stage that elevated him slightly above everyone else.

"Let's get right to this, then," the Prime started, his blue optics catching everyone's attention. "First, I want to thank all of you for offering yourself to this cause. The future of Cybertron and our relations with each other begins here. This task will push several of us, _(us? surely Optimus isn't apart of this nonsense)_ outside our comfort zones, but I want no one to feel pressured to do anything. If you do feel pressure from anyone around you, please do not be afraid to speak to myself, Megatron, or Rung." He motioned towards a small orange bot that gave a small wave. The mech had been the one who had done the psychological exams. "This process, if we want it to succeed cannot be rushed. A lot of bots were involved in matching each one of you with who we consider to be the best mech compatible for you. We ask that you try to live with the mech we chose for you for at least six decacycles. If, after that time, you feel it is a poor match and are unwilling to form a bond with them, then you may be separated and, if you are still willing, another match will be made. The end goal is to have a new community of Cybertronians, whom fractions mean nothing to. To show the NAILs, and each other, that we can, in fact, coexist, now that we have our home planet restored to us. Megatron," he turned toward the former warlord and extended his hand as he stepped off the stage, "will you do the honor."

The bulky mech frowned slightly at the phrasing but took the Prime's place on stage. "I will be announcing the pairings, carrier, then sire. Stand when called. You can sit when you note your partner." He turned his attention to a data pad in his hand. He grudgingly called each name, pausing between each, and making sure both mechs saw each other before allowing them to sit back down. Thundercracker had not been impressed with the pairings called before his. He may have been a bit bias since he didn't actually know much about the Autobot halves, but from what he did know, made him question some. Sure a shared profession could lead to a harmonious relationship, but really, the Autobot medic, Ratchet, and the narcissistic Decepticon medic (and that was using the term loosely) Knockout? The ginormous Combaticon leader, Onslaught and the little Praxian Bluestreak? Prime and Breakdown? The best being the Praxian Autobot second in command Prowl and Lord Megatron himself! Ha! He rubbed at his optics in frustration, this whole thing was absurd.

"Thundercracker." He shot out of his chair, trying to prevent a frown from pulling at his face as he felt his shoulders curl in on himself immediately upon standing. "Ultra Magnus." A large blue, red, and white mech stood near the front of the room and turned in his direction. He could feel the blue optics slide up and down his frame before settling on his own red optics. The corner of the mech mouth pulled a bit, like the mech was trying to smile, but it was short and unsure, the mech gave a nod before sitting back down. Thundercracker hunched in some more, crossing his arms across his chassis as he sat back down. He knew this mech, the rule-abiding commander who was a monster on the battlefield. Trying to keep his war-prejudice out of mind, he pondered what he could have in common with this mech.

The pairing went on for a while longer. Thundercracker kept his optics on his partner. The other mech looked in his direction several times, always dropping optic contact as soon as it was made. The large mech had something on his mind. Thundercracker could see the thought process going on in the blue optics, even when they didn't have contact. Was the bot pondering the same things Thundercracker was? Things like, 'Why me? Why him? How is this going to work? ' Thundercracker smirked, dropping his gaze to the box in front of him. This wasn't going to work. No way in the Pits was it going to work.


	2. First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thundercracker is cranky and having a hard time coping with what has happened.

The apartment before him was extravagant, yet simple. It was far too large for only two bots to be living in at a time like this. Thundercracker frowned as he set his box on the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room as he inspected the area. Ten bots could live comfortably in the living room alone, he was fairly sure ten bots had lived in smaller confinements during the war. For it’s vast size the room had sparse furnishings. On the right wall hung a large vid screen, across from it was an oversized, but tattered sofa, then two doors on the left. Only a long coffee table sat between. So much space was open and bare, wasted.

He made his way to the backwall, it was composed mostly of glass, two large doors opened to a balcony over looking the resurrecting Iacon. Though there was nothing much of the city yet, the view was astounding. The sun was drifting low on the horizon, casting a golden hue. He leaned onto the railing taking in the site, feeling the air currents draft over him. The other large bot entered his peripheral vision.

Ultra Magnus lightly leaned against the doorframe. His optics light in the glow of the setting sun, Thundercracker couldn’t discern where he was looking. The thought of the Autobot gazing at him so soon, made him shudder slightly. The large mech must have noticed the slight motion as his helm turned to look directly at the blue jet, a look of concern flashed briefly over his face plates, he looked as if he was going to say something, but turned his helm back to where ever he had first been staring. 

He utterly hated this. He pushed himself away from the railing and turned his back on the beautiful view. He ignored the awkward shift of the large bot as he pushed his way pass and stomped into his new home, gathering up his box of belongings, hugging it tight to his cockpit. Ultra Magnus lingered outside, but as Thundercracker expected he didn't linger for long.

"So," Thundercracker began, he really didn't want to be in the same room with the ground pounder, "which room is mine?"

The comment must have been too complicated for the Autobot to process if the bewildered look on the mechs face showed anything. It looked like he was thinking too hard, confusion in his optics and his mouth falling open trying to form an answer.

"Too hard?" Thundercracker sneered as he stepped to the center of the room, closer to the grounder. "Let's see if I can dumb it down any more. Do I sleep in that room?" He pointed to the door on the left, "Or that one?" He did a dramatic swivel of his wrist he had learned from Starscream, to point to the door on the right.

The blue and white mech's optics followed his motions as he spoke, then dropped to the couch in the middle of the room. There was a long pause before the grounder took a deep vent and then clear his vocals.

"Thundercracker," he spoke slow and soft, which irritated the seeker more, "this is a one berth room apartment." He picked at some invisible lent on the back of the couch before looking over at the flyer.

Thundercracker felt his spark speed up at the the comment, confusion forming on his own face. Ultra Magnus pointed to the door on the right, "That, is to be our shared quarters."

Thundercracker looked from the bot, to the door, and back. He moved across the room, stopping in front of the other door, pressing the control to open it. The door swished open revealing a fairly large washroom. His trine could easily wash in there at the same time, not getting in each other's way. It had a large spacious tub in one corner, an enclosed shower stall in another corner, nozzles were positioned on the wall between for an open shower, and in the third corner was a waste station and an oversized sink with an oversized mirror above it. His spark sank as he stepped back and the door closed in front of him. There were the only two rooms...he really didn't want to be here. Why did Primus hate him so much that he had to first endure Starscream and now this repulsive Autobot grounder.

He flicked his wings up in annoyance and stomped over to the other room and manually forced it open. Why was life so fragging unfair?

The berth room was fairly large. Two desks were placed in catty corners, barren bookshelves sat next to each of them. The desk closest to the door already had a few data pads neatly stacked on it. Along the opposite wall, close to the window was a very large berth. Once again, he compared it to what he and his trine could have used, and again they would have all easily fit within. Huffing he took he his box of things over to desk near the window. As he sat the box down he gazes outside once again taking in the view once again. It was darker now, the setting sun completely gone except for a residual pink hue that cast a silhouette of the city. There was no moon tonight.

The other bot shifted awkwardly into the doorway. Thundercracker's wings moved high onto his back. Why wouldn't he just leave him alone?

"Are you hungry? There are some energy supplies in the kitchen. I can make something if you like." The mech spoke softly.

"I'm not hungry." He snapped. The offer rubbed him the wrong way and Thundercracker turned his head slightly to glare at the bot as he stepped away from the room, finally leaving Thundercracker to himself. After millennia of war, why was this Autobot being so calm. Surely this mech was just as unhappy about this situation as he was, he just wasn't showing it as obviously as the seeker was. He seemed uncomfortable, that much was obvious, but he hadn't had the snarl creased on his face as many of the other mechs had as the sorting had happened. And he hadn’t said anything sharp or insulting towards Thundercracker, yet. It had to be only matter of time before Ultra Magnus showed his true Autobot colors. The damn slagger.

Shaking his helm he directed his attention to unpacking his things. He mainly had old data pads of his favorite Cybertronian literature, disks of music, and photo crystals from before the war. He jammed all the photo crystals into the desks upper drawer. He didn't want to display them for his new roommate, and, if he was being honest, he didn't want to see them either. He knew most of them were of himself and Skywarp, many eons before the war, before Starscream. A happier time. A time he wasn't getting back.

After placing the data pads and disks on the bookshelf (they barely took up a single shelf) he lay himself on the berth, gazing out the window. The night seemed so peaceful from his view point. The sky clear, Iacon trying to raise itself from the ashes of war. But things were not alright. Things were very messed up, and he hated the world for it. Anger and sadness swelled inside of him as he lay there. His vision blurred with tears. He smothered his face into the pillow near where he lay, letting the soft material soak up the optic fluid before it ran down his faceplate. After all he had been through he never thought he could feel more alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thundercracker woke with a jolt. He was alone in a large berthroom. It wasn't his room, this wasn't his berth. Where was Skywarp? Starscream? His vision cleared as he shook off the initial displacement. The memory of the previous day seeped across this processor. The sorting, being paired with the large blue Autobot, Ultra Magnus, his new home he was to share with said bot. 

Thinking of which Thundercracker noted that he was still alone in the berth, the other side undisturbed. The night was late, pressing into early morning now. Did the other mech not recharge? And why did he suddenly care?

Carefully and quietly Thundercracker got out of the berth and made his way to the door. He opened it manually, parting it just enough to see out into the living room. The room was dark, the only light came from the few lights that reached in from the city below. Slowly, he opened the door the rest of the way taking in the stillness of the room. Lights flickered on, just a dim glow, but the sudden unexpected action caused him to yelp in surprise.

He wasn't the only one startled, as Ultra Magnus let out his own startled noise and bolted up off the couch.

"Thundercracker?" Ultra Magnus gasp disoriented from being woken up so suddenly. "What's wrong? What happened?" He rushed over to Thundercracker, who had a hand clenched over his cockpit, willing his spark to slow down. “Are you alright?” the mech asked as he put his hands on Thundercracker’s shoulders as he looked him over.

Fear quickly turned to anger as Thundercracker pushed the large mech away from him. “Don’t touch me! What wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? What the Pit are you doing out here? Were you sleeping on the couch?” Of course he was, Thundercracker felt guilty for a moment as he moved away from the gaping mech, the way Thundercracker had been acting the evening before, who wouldn’t want to be recharging in another room.

“I’m sorry, Thundercracker” Ultra Magnus started, Thundercracker turned to look at the mech as he hugged himself and sat on the offending couch, he looked as tired as Thundercracker felt, dragging a hand down his faceplate. “I didn’t mean to startle you, if that’s what happened.” He walked over to the couch and motioned to the space next to Thundercracker. “May I sit?”

Thundercracker silently swore to himself. He had considered telling the grounder no, but he felt so drained, so cold, all he could do was shrug his shoulders as the large mech sank into the cushion.

Hand still rubbing the side of his face, Ultra Magnus stared out into the room as he spoke, "This situation is...awkward for me. It’s obvious that you are not pleased with how things are at the moment. I want to do my best to make you as comfortable as I possibly can. You appeared very upset this evening and I thought it best to give you your space. Was I wrong in my choice?” He turn his helm slightly as he waited for an answer.

A shiver ran through Thundercracker. He didn’t know what was right. He didn’t want to share a berth with the grounder, but having the large mech recharging on a small couch didn’t seem very fair either. “I...I don’t know. This whole thing is fragged up.” he mumbled, anger shaking his frame. All he could think about was how he didn’t want to be here. But really, what else did he have. He pulled his legs up into himself, hugging his arms around them and resting his helm on his knees. He fought the urge to cry, no he couldn’t do it now. Warmth flared on his shoulder, his helm jerked up to find the cause. Ultra Magnus had placed his hand on his arm. Thundercracker was about to jerk away from the touch when the offending appendaged moved away on it’s own.

The Autobot let out a deep sigh. “Oh, I know, and I fully agree.” He pushed his hand to his optics, fatigue visible in his movements. “But, for now, it is what it is.” He paused, “for now. Tonight at least. May we share the berth. Possibly get a full recharge, and work things out further in the morning. If I do anything, anything at all, that makes you uncomfortable just let me know. I’ll do what I can to alleviate it.” He stood as he spoke offering a hand down to Thundercracker.

The seeker glared at the offered hand, but he was too tired to bite out a response. He took the hand and allowed himself to be pulled off the couch. “I doubt we will find any way to avoid recharging in the same berth.” He huffed as he pulled his hand out of the others and marched back to the berth room.

“You’re probably right.” Ultra Magnus responded as he followed.

Thundercracker lay himself back down on the berth laying on his side, facing the dark window, curling in on himself some to try to block of the cold he was feeling within himself. He could feel the large Autobot pause at the side of the berth. His wings flared slightly in irritation, what was the fragger doing just standing there. A rusle and fabric pulled beneath the seeker. He rolled to his back to see what the grounder was doing.

“There is a blanket covering the berth, in case it is too cold for you.” the mech said softly as he slid onto the other side of the berth. Thundercracker shot up and followed the blanket’s edge to where it disappeared under his pillow. He tried to make his movements nonchalant as he scrambled to pull the blanket out and he squirmed underneath it reveling in the warmth of the material. As he warmed up he turned his helm slightly to look at the other mech. He was already in a deep recharge, his venting slow and relaxed. This Autobot, this Ultra Magnus, was an enigma to Thundercracker’s processor. So calm, so relaxed. His own optics flickered as he fought for some sense of understanding of this mech, but the more he thought the more quickly recharge overtook him.


	3. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning of day one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh...so I'm finally settled into life that I've been able to give this story some attention again. Thankfully, it has never fully left my mind and I'm still trying to get several chapters written. I just don't know how to get them to flow together. 
> 
> None of these characters are mine. I just enjoy tormenting them.
> 
>  
> 
> Time Units:  
> Nanoklik = 1/8 of a second  
> Klik = 1 minute  
> Breem = 8.5 min  
> Joor = 1 hour  
> Cycle = 1 Day  
> Kilocycle = 1 week  
> Decacycle = 1 month  
> Stellar Cycle = 1 year

Morning came slowly to him as his systems booted up. It was late in the morning, but Thundercracker didn't really care. There wasn't anything to care about any more. He slowly allowed his optics to flicker open, his line of sight had him gazing out the large window in the room. He stretched out across the berth, his joints creaking as he did so, as he took in the view of the city, now bright and sunny with the new day. His arm settled across the other side of the berth. Surprisingly it was empty. He was alone. 

Pulling himself up and stretching his back some more he look around the room once again. Like the outer room it was really barren for it's size. The desk and bookcase on the opposite wall had fewer things stored on it than his own appeared to. He found himself wondering how long the Autobot had been living in this space. Had he already been living here when the decision to force them to cohabitate was made, or was this a new setting for him also? He at least knew more about the place than Thundercracker did.

Thundercracker stood and moved around the berth. He paused for a moment and fingered the drawer where he had stashed his photo crystals last night. Anger and sadness swirled within him again and he pushed himself away from the desk and to the door. In the main room the vid screen on the opposite wall was on, though instead of any drama or news program, it was a spiral of colors, a calm classical melody flowed from it's speakers.

"Good morning," Ultra Magnus said softly from where he stood in the kitchen area of the apartment, "I'm heating up some energon. Would you like some?" he offered as he poured a cube of blue steaming liquid. Frowning, Thundercracker made his way to the counter, and accepted the warm liquid. He took a small sip of the fluid. It was bland, nearly flavorless, he groaned to himself as he turned and leaned his back against the counter, the only place to sit was the old sofa. He grimaced. He hated the idea of fueling on such a piece of furniture. Why didn’t they have a dining set? Or at least stools to sit on at the counter.

"I was thinking we should probably go out today, get some more furnishings for the apartment." Ultra Magnus spoke as he sipped from his own cube on the other side of the counter, resting most of his weight on his elbows on the flat surface. "The counsel gave us a good amount of credits to help get us set up. And I'm afraid with my focus divided to other things I never took the time to get this space livable once the war ended and they set me up here."

So he had been living here on his own for a while. Thundercracker popped an eyebrow at the thought. The war had been 'over' for several decacycles, *this* was all the mech had put into it? He downed the remains of his cube and set it on the counter. "Fine." he huffed with a small shrug, "This place could be a lot better, with the right furnishings, I suppose." The Autobot nodded in his peripheral. He picked up Thundercrackers discarded cube and rinsed it clean before drying it and putting it away into one of the cabinets.

“It is late enough that many places should be open. Would you like to go out now, or wait until later?” 

“May as well get it out of the way.” Thundercracker grumbled as he pushed himself away from the counter and moved around it to stand in the entrance way.

Ultra Magnus cleared his throat uncomfortably as he moved into the same space. “Are you familiar with the protocols in place for when we are in public together?”

Pushing the door console harder than he should have, Thundercracker gruffly answered as the door swished open, “ Yes. I am familiar with the *protocols* for being in public. As dumb and ludicrous as I think they are.”

He basically stomped his way down the hall and to the elevator. He knew the rules the council had put into place. They had sent a rather lengthy data pack outlining all the things that were expected of the couples in the course of their “budding relationship”. Half the things had made his tanks churn when he had read and reread over the chapters. A small relief was that there was some time until any serious things came into play. The thought of them however, made his tanks churn once again.

The ride down to the main floor was uncomfortable at best. Ultra Magnus standing awkwardly in the back corner, and Thundercracker growing more and more frustrated as more and more bots joined them in the elevator and he was forced to stand closer and closer to his forced partner within the confined space. He was able to feel the other mechs discomfort and apprehension as he was pushed closer, into the space of the large mechs tightly held EM field.

When he was finally relieved of the confined space, Thundercracker quickly made his way outside, sucking in a vent of fresh air, trying to get his frame to relax even a little bit. Ultra Magnus had no issue keeping up with him, and appeared content to hover to the side while Thundercracker attempted to pull himself together. 

“So,” Thundercracker started, realizing he had no idea where they might go seeing as he was going to be chained to the ground when around Ultra Magnus, “ any idea where any good stores are?” He asked coolly. Secretly he hoped the other knew some places that would not require them to take any of the buses or trains. Thundercracker did not enjoy confined spaces, and even more so when there were so many other mechs to bump into. When it was easy for any random perverted grounder to cop a feel of his wings. He shivered at the thought. Sadly, it had happened to many times during the war. Then, he had no shame in kicking the slag out of the offending mech. Now, that the war was over, that probably wasn't the favored way of resolving that issue.

“There are a number of good shops nearby if you don’t mind a decent walk.” Ultra Magnus stated as he looked down the street. Turning back to Thundercracker he smiled slightly. “One of the benefits of where the council chose to locate us is that it is in close proximity of many shops, restaurants, and other businesses. Though I haven’t explored much myself. It seems a … *charming* area to live.”

“Whatever you say.” Thundercracker mumbled. Ultra Magnus’s face fell somberly. Thundercracker sighed, suddenly finding the sidewalk under his feet very interesting. “Just lead the way. Please.” he ground out.

“Of course.” said Ultra Magnus. His voice much lower now. “How about we head towards, downtown. That area should have much of what we are looking for.” He held a large white hand out to Thundercracker. 

Thundercracker managed to suppress a whine. Damn, the council. Damn this whole situation. Wearily he slid his hand into the others. Damn their protocols, and the expectations for couples to hold hands in public.


	4. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made and Thundercracker needs groceries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Units:  
> Nanoklik = 1/8 of a second  
> Klik = 1 minute  
> Breem = 8.5 min  
> Joor = 1 hour  
> Cycle = 1 Day  
> Kilocycle = 1 week  
> Decacycle = 1 month  
> Stellar Cycle = 1 year

The shopping trip had been somewhat successful. Thundercracker and Ultra Magnus had managed to select a new couch that was more suited for both of their larger frames (the guidelines had stated that this item was required), a two seat dinette, and a couple of plush chairs for each of them with complementary side tables. The few new additions had made the living area appear more lived in. 

The new items didn’t get much use the first kilocycle of their co-habitation. Ultra Magnus would leave early in the hours of the morning to his job with the local police division. Thundercracker would wake several joors after and dawdle about until time for himself to head into work. He often stayed late working, going out to events he was covering, then writing up a review for the next day’s report. Ultra Magnus was usually already in recharge when he arrived home. The first few nights the truck had attempted to wait for him to return, but failing and falling into recharge in his new chair. After waking he would attempt to make conversation, but Thundercracker just waved him off as he headed into the wash rack to clean up, and again when he made his way to the berth. 

From their balcony Thundercracker could transform and launch himself quickly over the city to the large business building several blocks from the apartment that housed his cubicle. The building was one of the larger buildings to be raised in the city so far. It contained everything that was seeker and aerial focused. From the politicians to specialized custom shops, it had everything that would be of interest to the flyers of Cybertron.

Thundercracker worked on the first floor for the small local newspaper. Not the big paper, the one that covered the big events and news from all around Cybertron, that one was located halfway up the building. His paper focused on small bits of news of Iacon. Thundercracker’s responsibility had been to the arts and entertainment section of the paper.

He had had the pleasure of attending several plays, concerts, and art exhibits over the past decacycle. Attending opening nights, and in some cases being invited to day before showings to provide advertisement and review for the event in the next day’s issue. The job had it’s perks in providing many evenings filled with long nights and pleasant company. 

Artisian reviews weren’t his passion, though. Having been on Earth, he had developed an interest in TV drama’s he hadn’t experienced growing up on Cybertron. As squishee as the human race was, they did know how to put on a good show. He and Skywarp would often sneak off on the Nemisis and watch the jerry rigged TV in one of the less used utility closets. Skywarp had enjoyed the brightly colored, animated drawings, called cartoons. They would spend hours laughing at the violence that was portrayed in a humorous way. Often having conversations of how the creatures were never actually harmed or killed in the situations they were placed in.

Thundercracker frowned as he let a memory of one of their common discussions, which was better? The roadrunner or the mouse named Jerry, drift through his processor. Oddly, Earth had given Thundercracker many good memories with Skywarp. Starscream had spent so much time fighting with Megatron, trying to over throw their leader, that it was almost the way it was before the war. Just Skywarp and himself. 

He scrubbed at his face. He needed to focus. With his article for tomorrow's paper, about a new art gallery opening this weekend, already submitted and awaiting edits, he was trying to get some writing down for an idea he had for a vid-screen drama. His favorites shows from Earth had been the medical mysteries. Humans were so susceptible to so many illnesses that at times it evaded the human medics and the episodes were spent educating him on different ailments until the correct one was diagnosed. The acting made it seem as if the diagnoses was a surprise, a twist that was unexpected. Thundercracker didn’t always understand it, but he got the general idea and enjoyed the suspense. He wanted to bring something similar to Cybertron. A gruff medic, suffering loads of emotional backstory, and his band of new bright eyed interns struggling to figure out the strange and unusual viruses and codes. He had loads of files on different Cybertronian diseases now. Currently he was researching a particularly nasty micro-scraplet that could slowly eat a mech from the inside out.

His research was interrupted by an incoming call. *Ultra Magnus*, his HUD prompted. Sighing he switched the communicator to his inner coms. His coworkers didn't need to listen in on this conversation. 

“Yes.” He snapped as he answered.

“Oh. Uh.” He stumbled slightly to find his wording. “ I hope I'm not interrupting anything.” 

“I'm in the middle of important research.” He half lied, “What do you want?”

“I just spoke with Rung, the psychiatrist under the council.” He paused, waiting for an acknowledgment of understanding. But Thundercracker simply scrolled through the article he had been reading. “He, uh, was informing me that you and I are due for our first session with him at the start of the kilocycle. We set up a time, but I wanted to confirm that the time was acceptable for you also.” He read off the day and time. 

Thundercracker glanced at his calendar. “That should be fine. As long as it isn't too long. I have work to attend to that evening.”

“Rung assured me that the meeting would be less than a joor. I’ll confirm with him that the time is acceptable.” 

“Fine.”

Ultra Magnus cleared his throat on the other side of the line, “Do you have any plans for this evening?” he began. “We haven't spent much time together this kilocycle. I was wondering if you would like to get dinner, maybe some other event afterwards. I'm not sure what at the moment but I'm sure we could find something.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose Thundercracker sighed to himself. He hated this so much. “ No. I don't have anything this evening as of yet.” He silently prayed he would get some sudden assignment. “All I had planned was to go to the grocery store. The energon and additives selection at the apartment is pathetic.”

“We could do that afterwards, if you like. There is a store a short distance from the apartment, and there are several restaurants to choose from in that sector also.”

“Yeah, sure, where ever. I don’t care.” Thundercracker said dismissively.

There was a long pause, Thundercracker double checked his communicator to see if the call had been dropped. “Okay,” Ultra Magnus’ voice finally came. “I’ll meet you outside the apartment then. 1700 alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you there.”

They said their awkward goodbyes and Thundercracker dropped his head to his keyboard, banging against it a few times. 

The rest of his cycle was uneventful. He saved several files on the micro-scraplets before his edits came back, finished those and resubmitted, and started planning a plot around the micro-scraplets. He managed a few pages before he noticed mechs meander around and begin their processes of clocking out. It was 1645. He cleared his desk and made sure everything was in order for the next cycle. 

He slowly made his way to the floors launch pad. He suddenly wished he had made some friends. Someone who could possibly stop him on his way out and give him a reason to postpone or cancel meeting with Ultra Magnus. But he hadn’t. He mostly kept to himself. Usually heading towards his home with Skywarp and Starscream, he hadn’t had any reason to want contact with others at his work. A few bots waved to him on his way out, but that was the extent of his interaction most cycles with his peers.

He had delayed as much as he could, choosing a slower queue and letting a few others who appeared to be in a hurry to go ahead of him, then flying at a relatively slow pace. He was still 5 kliks early. He stood near the front of their building. Arms across his chest, watching all directions for the mech he was waiting for, he didn’t actually know where the police station was located. He quickly spotted Ultra Magnus down the sidewalk, the huge mech was easily spotted towering over the rest of the crowd. 

Thundercracker noticed that he seemed to be talking to someone. Several someones he noticed as the small group got closer. Ratchet, Knockout, Rodimus, and, ugh the saboteur, he couldn’t remember his name. That black and white mech was having a laugh along with Rodimus while Ratchet and Ultra Magnus seemed to be having a more serious conversation. Knockout strolled a few steps behind them all with his arms stretched and bent behind his helm.

Thundercracker felt himself curl in on himself slightly as the group approached. Ultra Magnus had given him a small wave as he stopped in front of the doors, finishing his conversation with the medic. Knockout and the saboteur made their way inside, the decepticon medic catching onto the end of the previous conversation with Rodimus and continued with it inside. Ratchet made optic contact with Thundercracker and gave a small nod, then waved Ultra Magnus off saving the rest of their conversation for later. Ultra Magnus saw him off with a small nod.

“How’s it rollin’ Thundacracka?” a hand smacked his shoulder, causing him to jump. 

“Forgotten how to pronounce your “r’s” Rodimus?” He growled at the small fiery mech, shrugging the hand off his shoulder.

“Nah, just being friendly. Mixing it up some. I’m a wiz when it comes to giving out nicknames. Don’t like yours?” The mech pulled a mock pout. “You’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t like it.”

Thundercracker opened his mouth to respond, but another voice interrupted him.

“Quit being a nuisance, Rodimus.” Both mechs turned their attention to Ultra Magnus as he joined them to the side. 

The young prime turned his pout to the larger mech. “Aww, common Mags, I was just introducing myself to your boyfriend.” Thundercracker pulled himself in tighter, and Ultra Magnus stiffened at the comment. Rodimus laughed and threw his hands behind his head. “See you two were made for each other!” he proclaimed as he turned away from the two and started towards the street. He turned and waved at them, “See ya tomorrow Magnus!” Then he transformed and quickly disappeared into the rush hour traffic.

Ultra Magnus let out a long deep sigh. “I’m sorry about Rodimus. He’s...well… we’ve asked him to stop giving everyone dumb nicknames and respect the wishes of those who have requested to not be called by them. But, I’m afraid he hasn’t listened to anyone.” 

“That’s obvious.” cut Thundercracker. He let himself uncurl slightly, keeping his arms across his chest. 

Ultra Magnus cleared his throat. “So, shall we go then?” He asked. “I was thinking maybe we would try Flatcluch’s. I’ve heard many good things about it, and it’s only about a block from the grocery store.” He offered his hand to Thundercracker with his small smile.  
Sighing Thundercracker gave up his hand to the other and allowed himself to be led down the sidewalk. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He had heard of Flatcluch’s. It was a more casual restaurant. Supposedly it had good food and good drink. 

“So, those mechs you were with,” he asked as he idly played with the rim of his glass, “They coworkers of yours?” He hadn’t wanted to ask, but he was slightly jealous that Ultra Magnus possibly had friends. An outside network to confide in during this situation.

“Yes,” the truck responded humming softly. “At least Rodimus and Jazz. Ratchet and Knockout work at the hospital at the edge of Iacon. They had some business with Optimus and had stopped by before the end of the shift.”

“They all live in the same building as us?”

“All but Rodimus.” he answered adjusting the silverware on his napkin. “Our building was set up for all the couples paired by the conseil. The council mechs thought it would be a good way for us to maintain a type of support network and keep everything convenient. Rung, the psychiatrist, is also set up in that building. Easy access for any … issues that may arise.” 

Where he had always left via the balcony when he went out alone, and rushing from the confined space of the elevator to the open outdoors the few times he had to travel with the bot sitting across from him, Thundercracker had’t noticed who lived there also, nor what amenities it housed. He made a mental note that he should look into what else the building held.

“Jazz and Soundwave live down the hall from us.” he continued. “Ratchet and Knockout reside two floors below us.”

Keeping his face as passive as he could, Thundercracker remained silent as he watched the mech fidget with his utensils. The silence made Ultra Magnus even more uncomfortable. His optics darted around the room, searching for something to break the intentional lull in conversation.

He decided to grab for an attempt at small talk. “How has your work been going?” he asked.

Thundercracker refused to be sucked into any conversation that required him to share information about himself. He was going to keep as much distance between the two of them as he possibly could. In response to the question he only shrugged his shoulders, dismissing the topic.

The cables in Ultra Magnus’ jaw and throat twitched. Thundercracker tried to suppress a smirk from twitching onto his face, he was enjoying the larger bots obvious discomfort.

The dinner passed in a similar manner. Ultra Magnus would try to coax Thundercracker into personal conversations, the jet giving only one worded answers or waving them non-verbally away. When the food arrived they ate in a tense silence.

When they finished Thundercracker waited impatiently for the other outside the restaurant. He watched as Ultra Magnus paid for their meals using the credit card the council had given them. The *one* card. The card they were suppose to only use on *them* as a *couple*. He fumed at the thought of wasted use of the new government’s funds.

As the truck had promised the store was a small distance from the restaurant. They awkwardly held hands as they made the short trip. Inside Thundercracker was glad to have the excuse of carrying a shopping basket to remove his hand from Ultra Magnus’. He attempted several times to keep distance between the two of them while he shopped. Ultra Magnus’ stride and attention made it incredibly difficult. He was feeling stifled just being in the mech’s presence.

He had them traveling up and down every aisle. He hadn’t had access to so many different ingredients in such a long time, he wanted to be sure he didn’t miss anything that was new and unfamiliar. Logging the names of interesting items to look up their uses and flavors later. One could never know what could be used to improve a dish.

About half way through the store he started regretting that he hadn’t gotten a buggie, his basket nearly overflowing. It was beginning to get awkward to hold and he struggled to inspect items due to it. 

A shock went through is frame. A large hand had settled in the small of his back, fingers gently grazing both of this wings in the process. The sensation froze him in place.

Moving in much to close for the jets liking, Ultra Magnus placed his other hand over his hand holding the basket. 

“Allow me to carry this.” the mechs voice drifted smoothly over his audial fin. He gasped, snatching his hand away and up to the object he was holding, clutching it with both hands. The heavy basket dropping into Ultra Magnus’ waiting hand. The mech smiled slightly and stepped away. 

He coughed out a vent and an awkward laugh. His eyes darted from the blue mech behind him, now holding his basket of items, to the back of the box he was denting slightly with his grasp. He swallowed dryly as he stared without reading at the text. The graze to his wings had sent a pleasant sensation through his body. An unwanted pleasant sensation. His faceplate heated as he tried to regain his composure.  
With the cumbersome basket removed from him he was able to continue his shopping unhindered. He continued to keep his distance as he shopped, only approaching Ultra Magnus when he decided that he wanted an item. At first they attempted to balance items in the already full basket. Eventually, though Ultra Magnus started taking the items and loading them in his arms. If Thundercracker didn’t desperately want all these items he would have been embarrassed at the site of the large truck loaded up with so much, and Ultra Magnus didn’t seem to mind carrying everything.

A joor later they were piling all the items onto a conveyor for check-out. A small gangly mech packed their bags and tallied what they owed. Thundercracker began to gather bags while Ultra Magnus produced their joint card to the mech. He almost dropped a bag when he noticed the card. It wasn’t the same card as the one that had been used for dinner. That one had been a shade of blue close to their own frame colors. This one was glossy black with gold trimming around its boarder. 

He gapped at the other mech as he took the card back and came around to pick up the remaining bags. 

“What was that?” Thundercracker snapped.

Ultra Magnus looked at him bewildered. “What was what?”

“That card you used. It was different than the one you used at Flatclutch’s.” he pointed out as they exited the store.

The larger mech tensed slightly at the observation, a small bit of color flushing into his cheeks. “Yes. I used different cards at each location.” he answered. 

Thundercracker flailed his arms slightly, the bags restricting how high he could move them. 

“Well! What’s the difference? One of them had to be the card from the council, what was the other one?” he prodded. He was frustrated at not knowing what had paid for each transaction.

From the side Thundercracker could see a slight frown had set onto the other mechs face. He was clearly uncomfortable, but Thundercracker was not enjoying it this time.

“The card used to purchase our groceries was the card given to us by the council. The one used at the Flatclutch’s is for my own personal account.” confessed Ultra Magnus.

Thundercracker froze in his tracks. His *personal account*? He stuttered from his stupor, “Bu-uhh. Ah. Why hadn’t you said anything? I would have paid my share of the meal. I assumed you were using the council card.” He was frustrated with himself. He should have noticed any sign that the mech had wanted to split the bill, for him to pay his half. He shoulders slumped as he chided himself. 

Ultra Magnus has continued walking without him as he admitted his fault. The question made him pause though. He turned his head slightly, looking back at the sagging jet. 

“I *wanted* to pay for dinner, Thundercracker.”

“What? “Why?” Thundercracker replied.

It was Ultra Magnus turn to wilt slightly, looking down at the ground in front of him. “You are my partner, Thundercracker. I wanted to … treat? … you.” he admitted awkwardly.

Thundercracker pulled back slightly. No one had ever treated him out before. Even with Skywarp he had been the one paying for their outings. It was weird, this mech doing so without his knowledge. He started walking again, Ultra Magnus fell into step alongside him. 

“I can pay you back for the meal.” he said quietly.

“I don’t want you to.” 

They reached the doors to their apartment. Ultra Magnus stepped ahead of him and pulled the door open, then stepped back allowing Thundercracker to enter first. As they waited for the lift he turned slightly to the other mech, fixing him with a suspicious look. “What do you want as repayment then?”

The mech was silent until they reached their apartment, again he opened the door and ushered Thundercracker in first. They sat their bags on the counter. Ultra Magnus began pulling items out and finding places to store them. Thundercracker felt his frustration rising, tightly grasping the edge of the counter he asked again. “What do you want as repayment, Ultra Magnus?”

The truck stopped his process of putting things away. He moved to stand next to Thundercracker and stared down at him for a few moments. Thundercracker dreaded the answer to come.

Swallowing dryly Ultra Magnus finally answered. “I want you to accept me. To give me-us-a chance to work in this stressful situation. I know I’m not your ideal mech. But I want you…” he trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

Thundercracker was dumbfounded. He had expected the mech to ask for some kind of sexual favor. What he received wasn’t even close to what he was expecting to hear. All he could do was blink at the other mech for several moments. He was shaken from his stupor when Ultra Magnus cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in front of him. Pulling himself back together he began unpacking his bags. 

“Whatever.” was all he could manage as a response.


	5. A Home Cooked Meal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner stears Thundercrackers thoughts in a direction he doesn't want to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silly domestic chapter. I have no idea how to cook most things so this probably is all wrong. I always enjoyed stories that have Cybertronians eating food as we would, in addition to energon and other fuels.
> 
> Also, I'm going to bump up the rating of this fic. Nothing yet, but I have several chapters in progress and they get somewhat dark. I'll tag accordingly as they come.
> 
>  
> 
> Time Units:  
> Nanoklik = 1/8 of a second  
> Klik = 1 minute  
> Breem = 8.5 min  
> Joor = 1 hour  
> Cycle = 1 Day  
> Kilocycle = 1 week  
> Decacycle = 1 month  
> Stellar Cycle = 1 year

The following cycle Thundercracker was able to spend time alone in the apartment. Ultra Magnus had the ends of the kilocycle shift. He had not disturbed Thundercracker as he left that morning, allowing the jet to sleep in until the late afternoon. 

When he did finally get out of the berth, Thundercracker excitingly prepared himself a tasty lunch with his new ingredients, keeping it small and simple since it was so late in the cycle. Liquid energon with some mercury syrup really hit the spot. He savored the flavor. It was so much better than the bland fuel the Autobot had stocked up.

He pulled out some cyberchicken he had set to thaw the night before, along with some root crystal to make for dinner. While he cleaned the crystals his processor drifted to the short conversation he and Ultra Magnus had had the night before. 

The grounder wanted something to work out between them. He frowned as he scrubbed ground residue off the crystals. He wasn't planning on staying any longer than the six months that were required of him. There was no need for anything to _work_

He made quick work of preparing and seasoning the cyberchicken before sliding it into the oven to cook. Setting a timer he made his way to the living room. He picked up his tablet off the small table next to his chair and sprawled himself on the couch as he turned the tablet on.

He pulled up the files for his tv drama. He forced himself to focus. He was ready to do some real writing, no distracting thoughts of his current situation. Rereading what he had previously written he was immediately sucked into the world he had created, time slipped by while he wrote, before he knew it his timer was going off, pulling him back to reality.

He hurried to the kitchen and opened the oven, an enticing aroma drifted out of it. He smiled to himself as he turned the material over. He felt so giddy, a trimmer vibrated through his frame. Closing the oven, Thundercracker paused, why was he so excited? 

He put on a pot of water to boil and began chopping the root crystal. He had been making meals now and again while he had lived with Skywarp and Starscream. But he felt as excited as he had when they had first stocked up their own kitchen and he had prepared their first home cooked meal since the war ended. This meal was nothing special compared to the vast meal he had made then. What was causing this excitement?

Thundercracker startled slightly and his good mood was quelled as the door lock beeped as it disengaged and slid open, and Ultra Magnus to step into the entryway before it slid closed behind him.

The Autobot took in a heavy vent in as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The large bot looked tense, his frame much more rigid than Thundercracker had become accustomed to. Instead of drooping as expected with the exvent, Ultra Magnus perked up, and the exvent was more of a sound of refreshment.

His azure optics drifted into the kitchen and settled on Thundercracker, who was dumping some of his cubed roots into the now boiling water.

“Are you making dinner?” He asked sounding surprised.

“Yes.” Thundercracker replied, biting his tongue not to comment on the dumb question. What did it look like he was doing?

The large mech moved into the small room, watching closely as Thundercracker cut more roots.

“It smells wonderful.” He said as he loomed just behind the jet’s wings, Thundercracker could feel the warmth radiating off the grounder’s frame, taking in a deep vent to smell more of the meal that was being prepared.

Energon rushed to Thundercracker’s cheeks as he put the final bits of root into the pot, and he tried his hardest to restrain his wings from flickering at the other mech’s presence.

“It's not much,” he responded, doing his best not to come in contact with the towering mech as he moved away and to another cabinet containing the canned vegetables. “Just some seasoned cyberchicken, root crystals, and,” he grabbed a can of gold pods before turning back to Ultra Magnus, pushing the can at the mech who was still much to close, “gold pods? If that's alright with you.”

He blinked rapidly at the can Thundercracker was holding in front of him a few times. Surprise and confusion mingled in his field and slightly on his usually passive face.

“Yes. Yes. That's great.” He said simply, suddenly realizing he was out of his element in the small kitchen as he stepped back and ,thankfully, out of Thundercracker's space. This allowed the jet to reach the cabinet and drawer he needed to get the can opener and a second pot.

“Is there anything I can assist with?” Ultra Magnus asked as he lingered awkwardly. 

Setting the pot of pods onto the stove the jet hummed to himself. “Everything is nearly finished. You could set the table if you want.”

Ultra Magnus nodded and began gathering dishware for the two of them, leaving the kitchen to neatly arrange it on the table. 

Pulling out several serving dishes, Thundercracker quickly transferred the roots, gold pods, and cyberchicken before the larger mech returned to the kitchen. He handed the two side dishes to Ultra Magnus as he reentered the kitchen and the grounder easily accepted them without a word and rounded back out to the table, where he gently placed the dishes.

Thundercracker followed close behind carrying the larger dish of cyberchicken with both hands. Turning the Autobot took the dish from him, their digits brushing against each other. The act and touch surprised Thundercracker and he is taken aback for a moment, making a small noise as he prevented himself from gasping out loud, and left him standing dumbly beside the larger mech.

Turning back again, Ultra Magnus quirked the sides of his mouth for just a klik before stepping around the confused jet, and touching his shoulder lightly.

“Would you like a glass of coolant?” He asks.

Startled again at the contact, Thundercracker nods, “Yes. Thank you.”  
Heat rushed through his system causing a shiver to run through his frame once the hand was removed.

Ultra Magnus movesdback to the kitchen, and Thundercracker drifted into his seat at the table. The situation was odd to him, but not unpleasant if he was being honest with himself, and he didn’t want to be. When he cooked for Skywarp and Starscream, he always had to set the table himself. If he had requested help from either of his trine mates he would have been met with whines or groans of protest. Ultra Magnus had done neither. He seemed more than happy to help the blue jet. Hell, he had _offered_ to help.

A glass being set in front of him brought Thundercracker out of his thoughts. He watched as the large mech set himself in his seat opposite him and met his gaze.

“Shall we?” Ultra Magnus asked as he motioned a large hand to the food.

“Of course.” He replied as he moved to pick a piece of cyberchicken and placed it on his dish, while Ultra Magnus took up the boiled roots and began filling his own plate.

Once they both filled their plates, Thundercracker felt a tightness of anxiety suddenly grip his spark. He moved slowly to pick up his knife and fork before attempting to cut into his meal. He watched as the mech across from him moved gingerly himself. Carefully, Ultra Magnus cut a piece of the cyberchicken and slowly moved it to his mouth, pausing a moment before putting it into his mouth. A lump formed in his throat as Thundercracker watched the mech chew the food. He momentarily worried if he should have made something more impressive as his first home cooked meal with Ultra Magnus. But that would have meant that he had wanted to impress Ultra Magnus, he frowned to himself.

He continued to watch as Ultra Magnus’ optics brightened momentarily and his chewing slowed. A niggling of a condensing voice began forming at the back of his mind, _”this was probably the worst thing the Autobot had ever tasted.”_ Ultra Magnus’ optics fluttered before he continued chewing and swallowing the bite. With more gusto now he ate the food in front of him, leaning forward slightly shortening the distance between the plate and his mouth.

The voice in his head stilled and the anxiety lifted slightly as he stared at the other mech as he nearly shoveled the food into his mouth. Ultra Magnus must have sensed him starring, as the mech looked up at him suddenly. Realization set in and the Autobot set himself straighter in his usual posture, clearing his throat before setting down his fork and knife and taking a sip of his coolant.

“This is quite delicious.” he said as he resumed eating at a slower pace.

Thundercracker just nodded as he finally began to eat his own meal. 

The meal passed slowly as they both ate. Thundercracker was grateful that Ultra Magnus hadn’t attempted any small talk as he had the other night at Flatclutch’s. The silence was deafening, but he prefered to not fill the space with needless conversation. He sat down his fork as he took the last bite of food from his plate. He forced himself to look over at the other mech to see how he had progressed with the meal. Irritatingly, Ultra Magnus was looking at him already. His plate also clear of food. All the other dishes still had a small amount of food in them. It would suffice as a single meal for a single mech. Thundercracker found himself relieved that he had made enough for the two of them, not knowing how much the grounder would need.

Silently, he began to gather up dishes from the table and taking them to the kitchen. Ultra Magnus followed suite, gathering up the remaining dishes and following him.

“Allow me to clean up.” Ultra Magnus offered.

Thundercracker nearly dropped the empty containers he had been retrieving for the leftovers. 

“What?” he asked, bewildered at the statement.

Ultra Magnus smiled that quick nearly non-existent smile of his as he moved to the jet, grazing his fingertips over Thundercracker’s _again_ as he took the containers away from the Seeker. 

“You cooked dinner. I shall clean up.” he replied as he began scraping the remaining food into the containers and placing the dishes in the sink. 

Thundercracker stood frozen for a few moments as he processed what was happening. For the second time, Ultra Magnus had freely offering to help, and followed through with the offers. Again, something Skywarp and Starscream had never offered, even when he requested it cycle after cycle, he was always left doing all the work of preparing, setting, and cleaning up after their meals. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the Autobot’s actions, they left him feeling confused, and caused a weird sensation in his chassis.

By the time he was able to shake himself from his thoughts, Ultra Magnus had already filled the sink with water and soap and finished cleaning the tableware they had used and was moving to gather the cookware Thundercracker had cooked with.

“I can dry the dishes, if you want help.” he offered dryly. Suddenly feeling very useless just standing in the kitchen.

“That isn’t necessary.” the truckformer replied as he scrubbed a pot. “You relax. Take a break from preparing this wonderful meal.”

Thundercracker scoffed at that comment. _Wonderful_?

“Fine. Whatever.” he waved his hands dismissively as his wings twitched in frustration. 

He huffed out of the kitchen and sat restlessly down in his chair in the living room. He switched on his tablet and stared at the text on the screen, but he was unable to process the words. He listened to the sounds that came from the kitchen. The water sloshing as a dish was cleaned. A faint squeak as a towel was dragged across the dish, wicking away the moisture. Finally, the soft clatter of dish being set on dish before the cabinet closing, storing them safely away.

Soon the large Autobot joined him in the living room, taking to his own chair on the other side of the room. They made optic contact as he sat down and he attempted a smile. Thundercracker quickly looked away, pretending to be interested in the document he had open. 

He still couldn’t focus on the words. All he could think of was the strangeness of having someone willing to help with tasks. How nice it was to have that little bit of help, without having to ask for it.


End file.
